In the Meantime
by Squeaklord
Summary: Freya Crescent starring in a short story where she struggles to not only sift through her motivations, but her very survival as she evades the eyes of the Alexandrian Empire. This story chronologically occurs after the main party leaves Freya and Beatrix behind in the Alexandria Castle.
1. Part 1: Cascade

**In the Meantime**

 **Part 1: Cascade**

 **January 24, 1800**

The life of Freya Crescent was in turmoil, to say the least. Not only was her homeland of Burmecia in ruins, but the beautiful civilization of Cleyra was now a smoldering stump. They were destroyed so quickly that even the shortcut through Gizamaluke's Grotto and the forced slaying of the great Gizamaluke itself-a noble protector corrupted into savagery by Zorn and Thorn's twisted magic-made no difference, it seemed.

Now, she stood in the royal bowels of Alexandria Castle: the land of her enemy and the perpetrators of her people's demise, all because a certain monkey boy and company needed to kidnap the captive princess...yet again.

With a deep, hot breath, stagnant air finally escaped Freya's lungs. Sometimes terrible events cascaded like falling dominoes and trauma built up so fast she could sense the back of her brain pulsing from sheer suppression. Taking a moment of honesty with herself: with Zidane around, this headache was a constant. She surprised herself with how well her skull casing lasted this long...and yet she still followed him around. He made things exciting, to say the least.

A sudden squeeze and the pang of thick, nail-like teeth slammed down on Freya's right arm like a bear trap. She snapped back to reality. A sharp howl escaped her throat as a towering Bandersnatch took advantage of the Dragoon's idling and chomped down.

By sheer reflex, Freya's tri-tipped spear pierced the demonic Shi Tzu's face in a second. The weapon dug deep but elegant, like a surgeon's needle. The metallic purple of mithril and crimson blood glimmered in the light. The fine wrapping of the shaft fit in her hand, as perfectly as a glove. No, more than a glove. It was an extension of her being! It was a weapon held by the divine warrior statue of Rhak himself. It presented itself to her in the ruins of Burmecia when she needed it most. It was hers, and she assured herself she would never let it go.

With a harsh yelp, the oversized dog stopped struggling, it loosened itself from Freya's arm and spear before crashing to the ground, destroying a section of smooth marbled floor under its weight.

"It's good to see you stopped daydreaming, Burmecian. Now stand tall. There are more coming this way!" Beatrix shouted.

Freya grunted. She almost forgot another core irony of this situation: she was defending her friends with the help of a traitor, Beatrix: a one-eyed general who made short work of her and seemed to have no trouble with ending her people before. Yet when Princess Garnet was in danger, Beatrix took a stand beside her and suddenly, they were in the heat of battle, side-by-side.

"I see." was all Freya managed to say through grit teeth. Her injured arm went numb with sharp prickles. Hot blood squeezed out from her undershirt and between the cracks of her plate mail. Still, she braced her spear on a single arm. It was nice and light, but her grip shook from the tension.

From the foyer ahead, two more Bandersnatches made their charge. They slid awkwardly across the floor-with small legs barely supporting their bulky frames-but throwing that weight around was nothing to be stifled with. As a Dragoon, Freya knew this, and she knew just what to do.

"Beatrix..." Freya said. Keeping her eyes locked onto her lumbering, slobbering enemies, she squatted low onto her haunches. Her toe claws found grip into the subtle cracks of the floor tiles.

"What is it?" Beatrix asked. She readied God Save the Queen: a beautiful sword complete with angled cuts and divots accentuating the blade. The sword left glowing afterimages in the air as it glided into combat position.

Freya recognized this attack as Stock Break. The memory of it sent a cold shiver down her spine. She was all too familiar with that attack and the stance that preceded it. Still, she did her best to stay calm when she said, "Aim high. Do not strike the legs like you did the last few times... Trust me. It's better to hit the vitals than get crushed under one of those things."

Beatrix nodded, but added, "And you need to focus. My magic force is running dry. I won't be able to scrape you off the court walls if you let yourself get smacked again."

Pretending she didn't hear that, Freya lunged toward one of the dogs like a bullet, the world around her blurred and she cut through the very wind itself, leaving ripples that blew over Beatrix's hair. She glided low so she wouldn't slam into the ceiling and twirled her spear around the wrist like a propeller. This cut her momentum just enough to hone in on the dog's neck. She didn't have enough time or distance for a javelin throw, she knew that, so she readied the spear with her working arm, bracing it with all her might.

 _CRACK!_

Her aim rang true. The spear sunk deep into the dog's neck. The crack of severed vertebrae sealed its fate.

Beatrix couldn't help but cock an eyebrow at how fast and clean the rat's attack was. She brought the thing down in one fell swoop, surprisingly good form, too. However, a general such as herself had much more experience under her belt, and she was determined to show it. She stood still as the dog gained speed and momentum. Its mouth opened into a gaping hole of teeth and closed in enough for her to catch a waft of its stale breath. That's when she skipped forward with a single, elegant hop. One halfhearted strike later, the beast slammed into the ground.

Watching from the near distance, Freya's muzzle pulled into a deep frown. The beast was clearly on its last few heartbeats, but something didn't sit well with her. She quickly sprung to her feet and readied her spear for a Lancer technique, but a wave of ache and soreness washed over her. She cursed under her breath, lacking the energy to close the distance she needed to.

"What are you doing!?" Freya screamed. "Kill the beast!"

The general glared at the panicked Dragoon for her lack of faith, and brought her sword down for the final slash. The dog howled and twisted in pain as its final grains of life drained away, but not before a stray tooth tore across her open, unarmored leg.

"Grrrh!" she groaned. She had slain over one-hundred knights on the field of duty and she refused to let a single mutt break her down. Her leg twinged with pain, but she refused to let it buckle. She stood fully and proudly, despite the wound gushing open from her strain. What she didn't prepare for hoever, was the sharp end of Freya's spear pointed merely a foot away. Her eye met the pale green of Freya's gaze, the rat's expression a mask of anger.

"Don't kid yourself. We are at the cusp of victory." Beatrix showed not a single hint of worry. She only watched as Freya pink nostrils flared and her long, bony claws tightened on the shaft of her spear.

"You have no idea of that. In fact, you know very little of anything besides fighting. Even then, your cockiness disgusts me. I-it would be an understatement to say 'you gave me a great deal of trouble'." Freya's voice trembled. Her regal cravat did poorly in hiding the bobbing lump in her long, narrow neck. Her grip on her weapon, however, did not falter.

"And you know very little of anything at all. Where was a knight like you when Burmecia was under siege?" she replied sharply. "Even the weakest of your nation's soldiers fell honorably under my blade, yet when it came to the proud Dragon Knights, I found no sign of you until we first met in the ruins of your king's castle. In fact, I was really looking forward to meeting the great Sir Fratley and-"

"You don't deserve to say his name!" Freya screamed. She surged with adrenaline until she overflowed, bursting with a lifetime of suppressed rage. "Y-you followed the whims of a sick, mad woman who stopped at nothing to destroy my home a-and my people, yet you have the gall to turn around and join my side when the blood got too thick for your tastes!?"

"Our nations have stabbed each other's ankles for years, Crescent! What do you expect me to say!? I am a guardian of my people first and foremost, something you won't, no, will _never_ understand. I have no idea what you have been doing with your little life, but serving your nation was not it. In fact...wasn't your mentor running off on a spirit quest, or something of that ilk?" Despite the bloodstained spear jittering near her head, the human managed to smirk. "Say, were you trying to follow him?"

"You killed maidens and priests! You culled the lives of pacifists who meant no harm to y-!" A sharp, metallic ring pierced the heated debate and a white flash blinded Freya. At that moment, she knew she let her guard down...again. Her cheek burned and swelled. Her spear clattered against the floor, far from reach.

In one swish of her blade, Beatrix slapped the spear from Freya's hands and even worse, made sure the flat end of the sword belted her across the face. A trail of silvery hair fell in a mess over the crestfallen rat knight as her pointed hat flopped off her head and fell to the floor.

"Get a hold of yourself. You can cry all you want over lost lives, but these were people you failed, rat. I am partly responsible for all but genocide. I accept that. I even accept that you'll never forgive me, but I will never let you kill me so easily."

Freya's face was invisible under her hair, but her slumped, defeated posture told Beatrix all she needed to hear. "I...I understand..." Freya whimpered.

Beatrix lowered her sword. She couldn't bare to look at a once decent opponent reduced to this unstable husk. It was too sad to watch.

"They seem at the end of their ropes!"

"At the end of their ropes, they are!"

"Let them hang!"

"Hang indeed!"

Two familiar voices echoed through the halls like phantoms. Zorn and Thorn again. The heavy thumps of paws and loud barks soon followed. They brought reinforcements.

Beatrix and Freya's instincts seemed to sync. Both of them sprang bolt upright. Freya scrambled to retrieve her spear and cap. She threw her hair away from her face, revealing the swelling, black welt on her cheek and damp, tear stained fur.

Beatrix readied her sword and sighed heavily. "Freya. Leave. Find your friends and help them. I don't know what that motley crew is thinking, but they know a hell of a lot more than me."

"What!?" Freya shouted.

"I'll be fine, whether you like it or not."

The Dragoon adjusted her keepsake hat, obscuring her eyes under the powerful visage of the dragon. Her shaking steadied and her voice leveled once again, cool and low. "Don't die," were the only words she managed to form before sprinting away from the oncoming barking of who knows how many Bandersnatches.

The pristine hallways of the castle reeked with blood. Paintings of Queen Brahne blurred past her periphery. She just noticed how gaudy the checkerboard flooring really was, but got lost in the running patterns. They did a great job at making everything look larger. Foyers and halls stretched into near-infinity until Freya noticed a large, open window. The midday sun shone through, beckoning her.

Without hesitation, she answered. Her large coat rippled in the harsh wind as she threw herself into dizzying heights. Castle walls swung past her as she twisted through the air. She took full advantage of her training, utilizing her light frame to glide toward a stream in front of the castle with the grace of a kite. Nearing the water, her spear twirled with every ounce of remaining strength and the coat splayed open like an umbrella. Still, she fell too fast.

 _CRRRSSH!_

Freya readied her legs for a hard landing. She swore she aimed herself just right, but clipped a stone on a wall surrounding the stream. Her right ankle didn't snap, but definitely bent the wrong way. Worst of all, it threw her off balance. Her eyes widened just before she belly-flopped, crashing to the waters with the elegance of a brick.

Blood flowed from her open arm wound. She floated with the stream, stunned and aching.

 _Beatrix...should I have said 'thank you' for fighting alongside me? Could she really be my ally after all she's done, or did I miss my chance to cut her down?_


	2. Part 2: Kind Enough

**Part 2**

 **Kind Enough**

 **January 24, 1800**

A clear night was illuminated by the dual moons, throwing a conflicted vibrancy of red, blue, and every hue in between over the landscape. From her early schooling days, Freya remembered there were ways to determine whether certain moons were waxing or waning. She held little interest in divination when she was young-and didn't remember a single thing on the subject now-but the idea of calculating fortunes from such an awe inspiring cosmos was very appealing at the moment, or at least distracted her from the myopic mapping of her aching, battered body. It was hard to believe she had only been floating for a few hours now. Memories of clanking, armored feet still echoed through her delicate ears. She did her best to dive and skirt the bank of the stream to avoid patrols, but spent most of the time simply bobbing in the waves.

Time passed, figures of what could've been Alexandrian soldiers came and went, but eventually the coast cleared. Freya felt stupid back floating like a chunk of driftwood, but the waters had to lead somewhere. She drifted under an open archway and counted cracks in the stonework to roughly measure the thickness of Alexandria's fearsome walls. She did this mainly out of boredom.

"Twelve...thirteen...fourteen...fifteen units long." Freya muttered to herself. Her voice was so soft she wasn't sure it made a sound. Maybe she just thought the words. A gentle whistle of astonishment escaped her muzzle as she floated out the other side. She just passed through an entire barrier of security.

The water became easier to float on from this point. It stung more too. Freya decided she was nearing the ocean from the salinity of the water. Just then, the loud boon of a vessel's horn reverberated through the dead quiet of night. Before she knew it, she reached the harbor.

Here was where she decided to regain some pride. Her coat bore down like lead and her body was soaked to the bone. She barely lifted herself onto the docks, where a fresh set of trading boats and ships spanned before her. The Dragoon noted the large, metallic vessels as mass shipments for military means. The smaller, wooden boats seemed to be private traders and simple merchants, likely delivering produce. It was easy to discern which were more likely to hold soldiers and sailors loyal to Alexandria, or in simple terms: trouble.

Every second she spent on the harbor drew the concerned gazes of more and more salt sprayed seadogs, but she kept her head down. Her twisted ankle dragged and she had to tie her sleeve across the other arm to ease her bite wound. The butt of her spear thumped against the wooden sections of the dock. She leaned on it like an old codger with a cane...

"Hey lady. Are you okay?" a small voice asked. "Y'know the guards don't like weirdos on the docks."

Freya's eyes, bagged and half-dead, drifted to a small, four-armed boy with a bandanna wrapped snugly around his head. 'Do I look okay to you?' was the first response that came to mind, but she chid herself: the boy at least acknowledged her. This may be her best shot at finding a boat somewhere, anywhere but here.

"Y-yes. I'm okay. Thanks for asking. What is your name?" she asked. She ignored the pulsing welt on her cheek long enough for her face to pull into a smile. Her tail, for the first time in ages, swayed merrily.

"Dandy..." the four-arm replied.

"Dandy. I like the ring of that name." Freya said. "I know this is sudden, but I need to travel somewhere. Do you happen to know of any sailors willing to take passengers?"

"My dad said to never trust hurried talkers. They're des...despear...?"

"Desperate...?"

"Yeah. Desperate. They're really sneaky and mean, too. The last time dad let someone take a ride in our mer...merkin..."

"Merchant?" Freya added again. Her smile faded with every passing word.

"Whatever. The last time dad helped someone like you out, we got in a lot of trouble. He was a wanted guy. Worst of all, he stole from us!"

Freya didn't like being on the receiving end of a scolding, but part of her admired Dandy. At least he seemed committed to assisting his father's business. However, she had no time for pleasantries. The boy turned to walk away, but Freya knelt and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. It was a lot harder than she thought it would be. She nearly buckled on top of the kid, but she bared with her weakened muscles. She couldn't afford to frighten the boy with any sudden jolts.

"Please. I am no thief or...wanted woman. I am on an adventure." It sickened her to lie to the kid, but she did her best to keep smiling.

"So you're another deadbeat with a weapon, greeeeeat." Dandy brushed off the soggy rat's hand and backed away warily.

Freya's jaw dropped. What child didn't love adventuring? Back when she was first knighted, pups would scramble up her coat in hordes just to hear stories of her first successful jump... _wait_. She knew exactly what kind of child this was...

Freya calibrated her next move precisely. Her soft expression sunk into cold neutrality. From her coat pocket, she retrieved a wet burlap sack jingling with gil, held it above Dandy, and spoke plainly, "One-thousand gil. Five-hundred now. Five-hundred when we reach the destination."

Dandy's face brightened, unable to maintain the proper 'businessman's scowl' in front of the Burmecian bearing precious coin. "Dad! Dad! Come quick!" he cheered.

As Freya expected, the boat was small: a one room vessel with a storage area filled to the brim with gysahl greens, ether root, and various other small packages of fruits and veggies. However, there weren't any guards or snoopy sailors that would turn her in, she hoped. Aside from Dandy, his father-a lean four-arm with a headband and tanktop named Rando-was the only other body aboard. Unlike the child, Rando greeted Freya kindly and gave her a thick towel. It must've been sitting in the sun for hours, because the second it enveloped her fur it became a warm spa that melted the Dragoon's troubles away, for the moment.

"I'm sorry we met on the wrong foot. I didn't think Dandy'd lack the decency to leave a poor, soaking woman out to dry like he almost did." Rando said. He then looked down to notice Freya's limp foot and winced. "Sorry for the expression..."

"It's no trouble at all." Freya sighed blissfully, huddled in the fluffy towel like a Yeti in its fur. Her eyes closed softly and her voice drifted dreamily. "I already paid for the first half of the journey. You said we were headed for Treno, correct?"

"Y-yes, but...well...I hate to ask..." Dandy mumbled.

"Hm?" Freya grunted. Her stomach growled fiercely and she was still in pain, but this slightest comfort was enough to make her nearly melt into blissful sleep, right at the foot of the deck.

"Don't get me wrong, I wish Dandy could see the kinder side of people, but we've run into trouble before. And...why did you need a ride so badly, 'specially when you didn't know our destination?"

"I see..." Freya cupped her mouth to hide a yawn. "I-I'm a Burmecian, you see. You've likely heard about the recent attacks on my homeland. I was not lying when I told your son I was on an adventure: I'm looking for a few relatives of mine. Anyone really. Buremecia and Cleyra were destroyed so quickly that..." Freya choked up. Even if she was technically lying, no one could tell her she didn't see both lands wiped from the face of Gaia before her very eyes, and that she was looking for her companions. She just left out the part where she assisted in kidnapping and slaying on Alexandrian grounds.

"I-I understand. I'm so sorry, again. It must be very rough for you." Rando waved his hands, tentative and careful, as if rubbing ointment on the emotional nerves he pulled.

"You are a kind man." Freya hid her face behind her cap's rim to conceal a blush. She was glad she did't have to fake gratefulness

"If you were needing to escape arrest or somethin', you did a good job. You looked so banged up back there, it'd be murder to not take you!" Dandy added, butting into the conversation and tossing Freya a bucket full of carrots. "Here. Free food."

That boy has a strange sense of humor, Freya thought. She bit into the dry, flavorless veggie with a hard crunch. These had to be bottom-barrel products of their shipment, because she swore the other greens were much more plump and colorful than these. No matter. It was much better than starving.

 **January 25, 1800**

Last night was like sleeping in a salad bowl. The storage area rocked with the ocean's choppy waves, interrupting Freya's sleep with sudden jolts. Barrages of food smothered her and shipping barrels rolled right over her, but she survived until morning.

"Huddled like a mouse in storage and living off rabbit feed..." Freya muttered to herself and the groaning creaks of the boat. She dug her knuckles into her droopy, exhausted eyes for a serious wake-up rubbing. Oh well, she thought. It's better than hanging by rope in front of Alexandria castle.

Her mind returned to General Beatrix. Even with her great power, how would she survive those nauseating jesters or the wrath of Queen Brahne? Why did she so easily turn to our side for the sake of the Princess? Maybe that sort if dedication is lost to me...No. No! I refuse that notion!

Just then, something heavy hit the deck above.

 _Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump._

"Excuse me. What's the trouble here, soldier?"

Rando's voice made Freya's ear twitch. She removed her hat to hear them better.

"There's no trouble yet. We're just doing a routine search on the vessels headed through here. Funny, you almost sailed right past our blockade." The sharp voice of an unknown woman spoke loud and clear.

Freya's eyes widened. She gripped the shaft of her spear and clenched tight. She was awake now. Blood rushed through her and pooled in her brain with the force of a thousand needles.

"C'mon. We didn't mean anything by it. Um. Um! Our products'll spoil if we don't get them to storage soon!" Dandy said. His panic was apparent.

"Then stop wasting my time, peasant." the guard said. Her armored feet drummed against the deck, louder this time.

A pang of guilt now stacked atop Freya's mounting headache. Great, she put this poor family in danger. What if she was recognized? She couldn't fight the soldiers or else she'd just draw more trouble to the four-arms. She had no where else to run, either...

 _Thump. Thump! Thump! Thump!_

An Alexandrian soldier by the name of Private Brei Vaughn threw open the heavy door of the storage section. The doorway petered down a flight of stairs, into darkness. The earthy stench of the produce hit her nostrils.

"Great. Greens. Reminds me of the village..." she sighed. She then turned back up to Rando and Dandy, who waited behind her. "Either of you got a light? I can't see down here."

"N-nope. Nothing. Sorry!" Dandy replied, shifting weight between his feet.

"Dandy... of course, miss. I have a torch to spare. Give me a moment." Rando said.

'Damn!' Dandy and Freya were on the same mental wavelength.

Pvt. Brei Vaughn descended the short stairway into the storage area once again. This time, the orange glow of crackling fire illuminated her way.

 _Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!_

The messy piles of greens and roots cluttered the floor, a stray apple almost tripped her.

"Ey! If I wanted to look at plants all day I would've been a farmer." she whined.

Something else-a subtle stench-penetrated the cover of produce. It smelled like a wet dog "Merchants, it reeks of mold down here! You better not be poisoning anyone, got it?"

"Of course. I assure you nothing's wrong. I use wood sealant and everything. Keeps the insides of the boat nice and dry!" Rando replied.

"Sure you do..." the soldier muttered, spying a wet towel on the floor. She blinked slowly and lazily. She wouldn't dare inspect that moldy, crusty rag.

At last, the guard grew tired of wasting her time in this dinky pit. As a final precaution, she swept her torch past all the barrels, spying nothing. Satisfied with her results, or lack of, she left the area. The last thing she wanted to do was file paperwork on mold violations.

Freya watched as the orange, dim light faded away, and the door sealed itself once again. She was back to being immersed in near-total darkness.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Her heart pounded in her throat. She let out a soft sigh of relief.

Before Pvt. Brie could take her leave, Rando and Dandy approached her worriedly.

"Was everything fine down there, mam?" Rando asked.

"Sure. Yes." the private replied hurriedly, eager to get back to her armed vessel.

All four of Rando's palms twisted together into an anxious knot. He wasn't sure what was going on. The soldier didn't mention seeing a passenger down there. Something was fishy, but he decided not to push it.

Dandy, however, wanted some answers: "Before you go, why's there a bunch of metal ships around? They weren't here a week ago?"

Pvt. Brie's face finally brightened up. Finally, some military logistics! "Ey. Well we've had a lot of problems with criminals lately. War criminals. A whole band of them caused nothing but trouble for Alexandria. We have to make sure none of them escape alive. They're all a lot of traitorous knights and brigands. Heck, two of them were fighting in the Queen's very castle!"

"Sweet Gaia. That's mad." Rando said. His mouth gaped.

"What do they look like...?" Dandy asked. His fists clenched until they went white.

"A vigilant kid. Good on you! Well, most of them seem to appear and reappear at the drop of a kupo nut, but we heard reports that one of the offenders was around the harbor yesterday. She shouldn't be hard to spot at all. She's a grey rat in a red Dragoon's garb. Her name is Lady Freya Crescent. She's extremely dangerous..."

"Hey! I think I kn-!" before Dandy could finish, Rando thumped him hard across the back.

"Wait! You mean that young Burmecian knight?" Rando interrupted. "Everyone's heard of her. We'll report to you if you find anything."

"Good. I got on these rusty boats to find some action! You both have a fine one."

Rando was barely able to restrain Dandy, holding him with all arms until the Alexandrian soldier left by dory and rejoined the military ship. He only let his son go when the blockade faded into grey blobs in the mist.

"What the hell, Dad!?" Dandy screamed. "That sounds just like the lady we picked up. She's beat up, too!"

"J-just wait. Stay behind me..." Rando whispered.

"What are you doing?"

"Finding out the truth."

A rusty shortsword was hardly the first choice of anyone about to fight off a trained war criminal, but Rando didn't exactly know how to maintain the old blade. It was his only weapon aside from a fruit paring knife he gave Dandy-mainly just to keep him entertained-as he searched the storage area. "Are you really Lady Freya Crescent?" he asked softly, holding his blade in front of him as if to pierce the ominous dark. Every shadow was a potential enemy in the limited distance of his torch. "Just come out and tell the truth. You're safe for now."

Freya heard everything, above and below deck. Something rattled in the darkness. Her voice was strained: "I would...I'm...stuck...barrel."

It took a while, but Rando was the first to notice a long, rodentine snout and a lock of white hair sticking out from his ether root barrel. How she managed to fit in there, he didn't know. Something also stuck out of a crack in the barrel's lining: a limp tail with a fancy yellow ribbon tied to it.

Dandy raised his foot over it, and slammed his heel down as hard as he could.

"YIPE!"

Freya flew from the barrel like a frog from a frying pan. She nearly slammed her head into the ceiling before crashing down. Her tail was numb with stinging pain, twitching and writhing.

"That stung, you brat!" she screamed through clenched teeth.

"I bet you're worth a lot as a bounty. We should turn her in, Dad!" Dandy shouted, shooting a hateful glare down at the fallen rat knight.

"Both of you, shut it!" Rando shouted.

Both Dandy and Freya stared up at him, equally shocked.

"I've traded with Alexandria for fifteen years, stocking them with the best resources I could find. I've made two routes-one to Lindblum, and one indirectly to Treno-but I've set up my shops through the Alexandrian harbor either way...and they've given me nothing but taxes, fines, and bureaucratic troubles for years. Queen Brahne hasn't exactly made the most economical decisions either. Bombing your neighboring lands is no way to make a profit. You should know that, Dandy..."

"Dad..." Dandy looked to his father with newfound respect. Still, he had to ask: "But if we don't turn her in, could we could get ex...ex...?"

No one corrected Dandy this time.

"First, you have a lot of explaining to do, Lady Crescent." Rando pointed his blade at Freya, but wasn't exactly confident about it. From the look of her, she could tell he was laughably inexperienced with weapons.

Still, she pushed against the ground with her cramped arm. The pops of vertebrae sounded up her arching back. She kept her head low, raising her upper body high enough to display a bow to the merchants as graciously as she could. "I'll tell you everything. You have my word as a... former knight." Freya said.

She told them everything she could, starting from when she reunited with Zidane in the Lindblum bar. She admitted she wasn't there for the first kidnapping in Alexandria-or how the queen was so quick to try blowing them up and siccing the murderous Black Waltzes on them—and worked partly off of hearsay. She even proved herself with an alibi, presenting a lightning yellow Coral Ring: her first-place prize in the Festival of the Hunt in Lindblum. She couldn't help but smile as the merchants fondled it in their hands, gazing into its glistening beauty.

After that, things got harder for her. She did her best to describe her journey through Gizamaluke's Grotto, Burmecia, and Cleyra without getting too graphic for the boy. Still, she trembled as she recalled the bodies draped across bombed streets, and how Queen Brahne was so willing to kill the king of a defeated nation that she appeared herself, with a royal general at her side and a strange, scantily clad conspirator.

She realized how messy and impulsive this all sounded: joining up with a band of kupo nuts on a dangerous, world-sprawling quest. It was even worse that she wasn't actually on this quest at the moment. She was separated from her group...

"Urm. How drunk were you at the start of all this, again?" Dandy finally asked.

"Dandy!" Rando frowned.

"It was a joke! I'm sorry." Dandy sighed. "Do you believe her?"

Freya held her breath.

"Dandy, do you remember what that other man said, before he robbed us blind?"

Dandy stayed silent, knowing his father would continue anyways.

"He told us he had a wife and four children back in Treno. He also said the rising sun was like 'a giant orange about to roll over Gaia'."

"Pardon me but... what?" Freya's head swung up to face Rando. She failed to contain her snickering.

"What's the point?" Dandy groaned.

"The point is he was a horrible storyteller, but it was so awkward I fell for him anyways. Even if this Burmecian was the biggest liar on the face of the moons, her story was so well-woven that I can't bother to undo the stitches. See, I'm a man of business, but a part of business is picking up what matters from the filler. It's all a matter of relevant detail. Trust me. You don't know how many folk will try babbling about their grandchildren until you buy their stuff and shoo them off.

"Also," he adds, "she didn't steal a single grain from us. I noticed that crude feeding bucket you gave her was still half-full. There weren't any scraps left around the storage, either."

"I wouldn't dare soil the graces you offered me. Thank you so much." Freya said. She attempted to stand and shake his hand, but her left ankle stung from the slightest touch. She nearly tripped.

"Woah. Hey. You know your ankle's dislocated, right? Let me fix that." Dandy said. before grasping all four hands around the Dragoon's leg and foot.

"Dandy? Dandy! That stings! Auggghhh!" Freya shouted. The sudden squeeze of fingers around her injured foot forced her eyes shut tight and her teeth clenched, anticipating great pain...

Instead, a gentle pop came from her ankle. Her foot pressed gently against the wooden flooring. It was still tender, but manageable. She sighed with relief and tipped her hat to the boy.


	3. Part 3: Always Dark in Treno

**Part 3**

 **Always Dark in Treno**

 **Jan 26, 1800**

It was as if the ocean smiled upon Freya, Dandy, and Rando, because the moment tensions lifted between them the waters calmed as well. And despite a mound of chocobo feed acting as her mattress, Freya slept soundly for what felt like the first time in weeks.

It was another overcast day, like any other day on the coastlines of the Mist Continent. Freya barely noticed their boat docked on the beach until the world stopped rocking beneath her. Outside the storage area, boons of both ship whistles and chatty sailors surrounded her.

Just then, she realized there was a hitch in her travel plan: how could they dock in Treno when it's in the top of a mountain, far from any shoreline? She clutched at her sack of gil. As much as she enjoyed the company of these four-armed merchants, the thousand gil trip really lightened her funds... She only had about six hundred left. Counting board, food, and a celebratory beverage or two, she was already pushing it.

It didn't help her case when she went up to the deck, either. Treno was obscured atop a towering mountain, the stony walls of which were sanded by tide and wind until they were smooth and unclimbable, even with her great jumping prowess.

She was surprised she never noticed a makeshift landing like this before. The beach and field at the base of the mountain swarmed with stands and ships. Every inch of land was filled with bodies shouting and waving products around like there was no tomorrow. A large shadow cast over her as an airship took off from the land, likely relaying all the products to Treno.

"Freya. Get back down. What are you doing!?" Dandy whisper-yelled. With surprising strength, he shoved the rat knight back down the stairs, closing the door behind him.

Freya glared at Dandy, but quickly realized something: Treno was far away from Alexandria, but still Alexandrian territory. She clapped her hand to her face and groaned. "My apologies, Dandy. I realize I shouldn't be here. I'm not used to sneakiness...I had a friend for that."

Dandy's expression softened. He was disappointed that Freya chewed herself out before he could. "Fine. We need to get you a disguise. We can't have you dragging us down if you get...y'know, caught. Besides, you look pretty dumpy," he said, pointing to Freya's coat.

Freya was lucky she didn't have a mirror to look into. Her clothes were a mess. Her lucky coat was still damp, reeking of mold-stench. Dried blood from her makeshift 'bandage' formed a black-brown streak of crust down the right sleeve.

The only thing unharmed from all the fighting, swimming, and cramped living was the Burmecian royal crest that draped down her chest. She didn't know if that was an omen or not.

"Here! I found a rep...reep-lace?" Dandy said

"Replacem-..." before Freya could finish, she looked up to what the four-arm was holding. It was a potato sack with a hole hastily cut into it for her head. At best, it would be an oversized poncho.

Freya's face became a mask of grumpiness.

"Don't get mad at me. You'll blend into Treno fine! Half the people there can't afford clothes." Dandy said.

Freya's expression didn't budge. Her coat, cravat, and armor were messily tucked away in another burlap bag, which was tied around her spear and draped over the shoulder as a knapsack. Dandy was right, though. She would pass as a Treno resident. Too bad she would be the equivalent of a fairly tale orphan-child with an itchy potato sack that draped down to her hips, wearing little more than the rank undershirt and pants that stuck to her body for the past few days.

The neck was also way too loose and...revealing for her liking. Against Dandy's very vocal complaints, she re-adorned the great Burmecian crest down the front of her new garment. She could at least retain some dignity that way.

She still appreciated what Dandy and Rando did for her. However, she also paid them a lot. This crossed her mind as she handed Dandy the last five-hundred gil for their deal. Dandy boasted that he added a few more carrots to her knapsack as a bonus, but she had a feeling they couldn't sell those off. No matter... They gave her travel and board. Most of all, they put their lives on the line for her. She won't pretend she understood Rando when he said her story was worth the risk alone, but she was better off than before.

Freya felt a certain, inexplicable completeness after her sleep, and was confident she had enough energy to do something special for the merchants who helped her.

The mithril spear unsheathed and sliced the air with a flick of her wrist. A tingling sensation pooled in her lungs. She held her breath as best as she could and rose the spear up high until the tingles bobbed at the back of her throat. With a gentle exhale, a cloud of diamond-like dust blew from her muzzle and clustered around her spear. There, they twirled and danced, generating their own brilliant spectrums of light before dissipating into a cool mist. This invisible mist spread throughout the boat. Rando, Dandy, and Freya were overcome by an icy, refreshing tingle.

"Rei's Wind." Freya said. Her swollen cheek faded away and her limped arm repaired itself in mere minutes. Rando and Dandy weren't injured, but a wave of peppy energy washed over them like several fresh cups of coffee, minus the jitters.

Fully satisfied with leaving Rando and Dandy mystified, Freya took confidence in her leave. The throng of merchants were fierce and the marketplace brimmed with succulent, honeyed meats; complex mechanical parts; and glistening weapons, but Freya, sadly, didn't have much to spare. She barely managed to bribe a sailor and hitch a ride to Treno via air ship, and that took every last gil she had left.

The 'journey' took an entire day in the men's quarters, crammed under the sailor's bed. There, she endured the odor of sweaty socks and kept quiet as feet shuffled back and forth. She clutched her stomach for dear life to prevent a single growl. It was so tight under there she couldn't risk reaching into her sack for a carrot, or else she might alert one of those rowdy sailors. She didn't want that, either. She heard what those men talked about.

 **Jan 27 1800**

The lingering stench of cramped sailor's quarters still stuck to Freya as she entered the front gates of Treno. She could tell because both the luxuriously dressed nobles and half naked thugs kept at least fifteen feet away from her at all times.

"The smell on dat sewer rat!"

"Ack! Take a shower!"

"Oh dear, Marty. She looks so sad. Is she a refugee?"

"It's okay dear. I will donate thousands to the Burmecian rebuild, I swear. Now avert your eyes...and breathe through my handkerchief."

Penniless, degraded, and wanted, Freya's eyes narrowed. Her focus shifted away from the citizens and onto the city itself. She needed shelter and work, at least enough to repair her equipment, stock up on resources, and find her group again. She wondered what Zidane would say if he saw her like this, probably something funny and crude. She would like that about now...

Treno: the Dark City. She wondered how people could manage this constant dark. Sure, Burmecia was the Realm of Eternal Rain, but at least a few sunbeams pierced the grey of mist. Here, she couldn't even tell what time it was. The economic disparity was thick enough to cut with her spear, too. From a distance, the towering clusters of homes-spotted with the tiny, star-like glows of lamp light-was lively and breathtaking until she noted the tall, rail-less bridges connected to planks of old wood and makeshift shanty towns under constant repair.

As time passed, she spotted two small children, a human boy and girl, play-fighting each other with sticks on a wobbly wooden plank. The board creaked and bounced, overlooking what seemed like a fatal drop into the canals below.

"Be careful! That's extremely dangerous!" Freya shouted. Her knightly-protector instincts kicked in. She didn't consider herself an outspoken lawman type like Steiner, but who lets their kids out in such a dangerous place? Someone had to supervise them, at least a bit.

The children froze mid-swing, turned toward the scraggly rat, and snickered.

"Dangerous t'you, maybe." the girl snapped back.

"We haven't seen you here before. Butt out or you'll get hurt, lady," the boy replied without even looking back.

The Dragoon was frozen with shock. She was never insulted while trying to help kids in an obviously dangerous place, let alone lectured by one.

The children giggled at her again and ran off. They scampered over loose boards and exposed nails with more agility than even the spriest pups she'd seen at home. They quickly disappeared into the rickety woodwork of the slums, supported on what looked like a lopsided foundation.

 _CRUNCH!_

One of these dry, hard carrots was Freya's only friend. She still couldn't tell what time it was, but it was still dark. She sat on a precarious ledge of one of the many bridge walkways that sprawled across the upper city, with her legs hanging lazily in the air. Her vision fixed on a small paper boat. It flopped unsteadily in the black, shimmering void below, taking on water until it dampened into a pathetic clump and vanished.

A loud burp broke her daydream.

"They get all th'money tah bid on golden gysahl pickles but -hic- I can't even buy a...sommthin...hic..."

Nearby, an old man stood, staring into the waters just like she did. His eyes squinted shut, though. He looked half asleep.

Something hard and heavy bumped Freya's back. She gasped. Her hands clasped against the ledge for dear life, but she didn't lose balance. Two voices snickered behind her.

A short, mop haired human and a massive, portly hippo surrounded Freya on both sides. The hippo's forearms were as thick as aged oak logs. They wrapped under Freya's armpits and clasped around her waist, lifting her with ease.

"Hork! What do you think you're doing!?" she shouted. The hippo's grip slowly tightened around her chest, squeezing the breath out of her like a vice.

The human was about to tear open the knapsack, but his hair frazzled with glee when he found what it was tied to. "Hot damn! Look at this shiny spear. Georgio, this looks like a replica weapon."

Ignoring the squirming victim in his grip, Georgio asked, "Like those diamond encrusted swords?"

"Nah." the human replied after searching the weapon, turning the precious mithril around his dirty, grubby fingers.

"Stanless steel?" Georgio guessed again.

"Hey! Put that down! I'm a kn-... That doesn't belong to you! That's a Burmecian treasure! Stop!" she had to scream as hard as she could just to force the words from her mouth. It's getting so...tight. The blackened Treno sky somehow got even darker. White spots swam in her periphery.

Seeing no other choice and nearly blacking out, Freya took advantage of Georgio's poor form in grappling. She snapped her elbow into his bulbous snout with the force of a hammer. Just as she suspected, Georgio's grip loosened immediately. Following the momentum of her elbow strike, her legs swung into motion with a spinning roundhouse kick. She was rewarded with the satisfaction of her lean, blade-like tibia slamming into the behemoth's stomach.

Georgio's eyes watered from the sudden hit to his face. He was thrown completely off guard and took the kick like a punching bag. He stumbled backwards and fell right onto his human friend. Freya's spear flew right out of the thief's hands. Right over the...

 _TCHIK!_

Freya's heart stopped. The spear shook in her uneasy grasp. She caught it just before it flew into the canal. She whimpered and tightened her claws around the precious weapon. Just in time, too, she thought. The thieves recovered, and they didn't look happy.

"You shtupid bitsch! Y-yew broke my noshe! Itsch dented! M-my fasche!" Georgio blubbered. His eyes welled with tears and rage. From the opening of his tattered coat, he unraveled a ball-and-chain and spun it. The twirling ball hummed through the air, resonating with great strength.

The human drew a knife. He flipped it in his hand and caught perfectly by the handle. "You're pushing it, you putrid rat." he said. A smirk pulled across his face. He was trying to play it cool. "Look at you, nothing but a furry stick with rags wrapped around."

"Then why would you want to rob me?" Freya's ears folded back. Her muzzle stretched to reveal a set of small, sharp teeth. She twirled her spear around the wrist before catching it backwards. The blade rested near her arm and the bulbous, metallic base faced her enemies.

"Because you're easy stooge!" the human snorted. "You can't even hold your weapon right. By the time we're done with you, y-you'll be floating around the duel hall, in pieces."

"Back off, now! You know you can't fight me. I heard your voice falter." Freya replied. Her pale green eyes locked onto the human's face. She didn't want to dirty the ground with their blood. They just needed to learn a lesson.

"You got lucky, rat-face!" Georgio screamed before throwing the ball, full force.

'Rat...face...'

Only one person could call her that, and only on special occasions. Time slowed as the very mention of that insult flooded her body with adrenalin. That, and the heavy thrum and air displacement coming from a flail that shot toward her like a cannon ball.

An idea flashed into her mind. It was risky and bordering stupid, but it was the best chance she had unless she preferred the nickname 'flat-face'.

Freya widened her stance as low as she could. Her toes locked between the cracks of cobblestone: trying to hold as much ground as possible despite her light frame. The bronze ball came right toward her, but she swung with all her might!

 _TONG-G-G-G!_

Freya's spear vibrated like a tuning fork, stinging her hands and shooting uneasy tingles up her arms, but she did it: she smacked the ball right back into Georgio's gut.

"POOOOMF!" Georgio groaned. The ball sunk deep into his bulbous belly and stayed there. He slowly rose his hands in surrender, sunk to his knees, and passed out.

But before Freya could breathe, the human came at her with a flurry of fast slashes. However, his stance was sloppy and he swung with his entire arm. He shouted with rage as this pipsqueak bum skirted all of his strikes with ease. He swore she even smiled at him.

That drove him crazy.

For a moment, he noticed Freya step back. He had her now: he stomped forward, closing the distance and throwing his energy into a plunging stab, right for her chest.

Freya sidestepped the strike, catching the thief's wrist in her hand. The blunt side of her spear bopped him over the head. His stance broke. He dropped his blade and stumbled back and froth. The world beneath him gave way as he stumbled off the bridge, where a gust of wind and the endless black of water swallowed him below.

At least it would have, if Freya didn't catch him by the collar with her spear. "Grrrrrgh!" Freya strained. "Don't you dare die."

She managed to pull the human back onto the bridge, but showed him no more kindness and threw him against Georgio's unconscious blubber. She rose the blunt end of her spear again, keeping watch until he recovered, then she asked, "Why? Why do you think stealing from the poor would ever be okay, especially if you'd kill for it?"

The human heard vitriol dripping from her lips. It made him shudder. "I-I needed it, lady. C'mon now. We weren't gonna kill you. N-not all of us can fight like ballet ninjas. Besides, you smashed Georgio's face in!"

"Right. My apologies." Freya faltered. She twirled a lock of white hair around her finger. "Still...why can't you just sneak into mansions and steal from the rich, or something of that sort?" the words trickled unconfidently from her mouth. She didn't exactly condone thievery. Then again, she always let Zidane do it...

She may have to visit a temple sometime soon.

"Don't be dumb... There are private security and guards all over the waterfront properties. Hell, there's a big bird monster at the weapon store. You ever fight a gryphon before, Nezumi-girl?"

Blank faced, Freya lifted a finger to correct him. She actually had once during her training in-

"Of course you have! Geez! Just...get outta here. Go back to fairyland. Those kids said you were an easy target, not Robin Hood."

"Kids?" Freya asked, but then her ears stabbed upright like devil horns. Those brats...

Something brushed over her foot. Her vision locked right onto the thief, who sprawled like a lizard across the ground to grab his knife. With a light swing, she bopped him on the same spot with the blunt end of her spear. He collapsed immediately.

"Scoundrel... I might've done the same, if my conditions were different..." she muttered to herself. The thought came across her mind to strip their weapons and sell them off.

 _They're untrained thieves. They'd be more likely to kill someone without proper training, then they'd just die anyways._

 _That hippo's ball weapon was huge and stupid, but it would easily fetch a price in gil._

 _They would have killed you..._

These were all fine points to consider, but...something about taking what little these folk had...it stung in her chest.

A cool breeze tossed her hair across the sky and over her face, blinding her momentarily. The humid air, how it played off the shimmering water and brought its taste to her nostrils. It was romantic, but stagnant with algae: a simple pleasure with no lasting meaning.

Freya struggled to roll the hippo for half an hour before she rested their bodies at a dark alley in the shanty. She left her last three carrots for them before she left.

Those unruly brats sent thieves after me, the nerve...! Her head buzzed with rage. I'll spank them so hard, they won't sit down without remembering m-"EEP!"

A sharp pang stung through her snout and pierced her brain with pain, right between the eyes. Someone bumped right into her, again.

"Don't tempt me, you-oh. My apologies, sir." she said. The fire in her voice extinguished when she realized she bumped into the old man, who didn't even move from his spot earlier.

"Heyo, rat lady. You really kicked those people's butts. I wouldn't want to mess with you." he said. His voice rattled like a phonograph record.

Freya grunted and bit her lip. She didn't want to show off, but, well. Okay, she did a little. It's just how she was trained, she assured herself.

"I only acted in self defense." Freya replied.

"Abscess? Hoowee, lady. I'm not a doctor." The old man said. His cheeks flushed and he turned away from her. "Keep that stuff to yourself."

Freya tensed. She hoped no one heard that. "N-no! That isn't what I said. I..." she started, but gave up. The old man was probably deaf, she suspected. She already had enough trouble as it was, and had no time for silliness.

"Good day...or evening," Freya mumbled as she stepped past the old man, but stopped when he addressed her again:

"Why didn't you take their stuff? You don't look like Miss. Moneybags, you know?"

"It's dishonest. Someone needs to uphold decency." she replied.

"Phonics? Are you a language teacher?... Look. I know my Gaian, but you gotta take what you can get. When death comes, he don't care about how many meals you threw away for the sake of looking good. You need to hit with a free hand."

Freya's eyes widened. She blinked hard with disbelief. That was...oddly eloquent.

She waved goodbye to the old man without another word. Everything in this city was so restless it was an electricity in the air, and it bore down on her ceaselessly.


End file.
